


Lit Fuse

by TameAVagrantLion



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Ficlet, First Time, Resolved Sexual Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TameAVagrantLion/pseuds/TameAVagrantLion
Summary: The tension between Tormund and Brienne reaches a tipping point.Set after S07E01.(Now a two-parter)





	1. Collision

Brienne was running out of patience. She found herself more and more often in Winterfell’s courtyard, next to the armoury. She usually spent her time sparring with Pod to keep them both in shape, but today Pod was resting. She had given him quite the beating the day before. And so, she had replaced ‘Oathkeeper’ with an old rusty axe and was now chopping wood outside. It was barely first light, so she was alone, with the exception of a few members of the help that were gathering water by the well across the courtyard.

Being useless was making Brienne anxious, and she didn’t like the company of so many strange men gathered under the same roof. She didn’t want anything to do with Baelish’s army, and even less with the Free Folk. Especially with their scruffy leader, Tormund Giantsbane. He was relentless, and it was unnerving Brienne. She was starting to think the man didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’, and Gods knew what the wildling was capable of doing to get what he wanted. She cringed at the thought.

Speaking of the Devil, just as she let the axe swing once more, she saw Tormund was stood on the other side of the training field, arms folded, and with that curious expression he always wore. She felt anger bristle up her spine and stick in her throat. Would he ever let her be?

“Keepin’ yerself busy there, Brienne?”. There was that flirty tone again. She never knew if he meant it, or if he was taunting her.

Brienne lifted her head and saw the fire burning in his blue eyes, then felt her cheeks flush red as she looked away and continued to chop at the logs. He definitely meant it.

“What do you want?” Brienne kept her tone clipped and refused to meet the man’s eyes again.

She could feel his smirk without even needing to see it, “There ‘aint much to do on this damn castle, watching yer is just about the only fun I have these days.” He looked her up and down and added, “Maybe we could entertain each other”.

Brienne put the axe down and looked up, glaring daggers at the redheaded man and doing her best to restrain herself. He noticed that Tormund was sauntering forwards, edging closer and closer as if daring her to do something, and Brienne finally decided that she might very well do.

“Well then, I think you should find yourself a new hobby before this one gets you injured”, said Brienne, her voice dangerously calm. She knew that would have intimidated most people quite effectively, but to Tormund’s ears it was more than seductive.

Tormund chuckled, seemingly liking where this was heading, and leaned against the tree stump Brienne had been chopping firewood on. Both of their eyes now locked in an intense stare.

“That a threat?”, he asked, his deep, raspy voice sending shivers down Brienne’s spine, “or a promise?”.

“Both” Brienne took a step forward, her words coated in acid but her eyes now burning too.

Tormund drew a sharp breath and his eyebrows raised. He, too, took a step forward, so that they were now so very close that both could feel the other quivering in equal parts anger and anticipation, eyeing each other as one would a prey.

Brienne was slightly taller than him, so he had to look up to whisper, “Show me”.

And that was it. Like a tightly coiled spring being released, Brienne leapt forward and smashed her lips to his, painfully hard, which made him fall backwards. She put her entire weight on him, her strong thighs straddling the man’s waist. Tormund groaned in both pain and arousal, bucking instinctively into the movement. That stopped Brienne in her tracks. She gasped in surprise, and the wildling took the opening to turn them over, so he was now atop her. He tried to grab her hands and pin her down, but Brienne fought back, and they were soon rolling over the hard-stone floors.

Before long, the combat was beyond Tormund and Brienne, both warriors acting on pure instinct, some deep attraction either masquerading as hatred or fuelled by it. Neither one knew, nor even cared at this point, that they were starting to attract public. All Brienne knew was that she kept pressing deeply into this man, fighting for dominance, until pain became pleasure.

Tormund’s hands were everywhere, making Brienne feel frantic and more aroused than she had been in her life. She had no idea what came over her, but she found herself biting at Tormund’s neck. At the sound that escaped the man’s lips, Brienne made a mental note to remember the exact spot.

Teeth and lips and tongues clashed once again as one tried to claim the other, both fighting for dominance over one another but too equally matched to win. Finally, Brienne used her larger bulk to grasp Tormund’s wandering hands, roll the man until he was underneath her and pin his hands to the ground. Eyes burning with desire, she smirked down at the Free Folk leader, who was writhing underneath her.

“I surrender”, said Tormund, clearly out of breath but smiling still.

Brienne moved her head closer to him, until their foreheads were touching. With an almost evil smile, Brienne gave him one last gentle press of her lips.

“Good”, she said.

Next, Brienne got up, picked the axe where it lied abandoned, and gave one last look at Tormund, who was still laying on the ground with a huge grin, and felt a weird kind of pride at the sight of his very evident erection, not concealed even by the various layers of fur he was wearing.

She then turned towards the armoury and started walking, avoiding the many gazes of the men that had gathered around them during their ‘combat’. She could hear them congratulating her on her "victory". It was only a half truth, Brienne thought. She had won the battle, but she had also given Tormund exactly what he wanted.

Part of her wished Tormund had finally learned not to mess with her, while part of her wished he’d do it again.


	2. The Parting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yesterday you showed me you can be fierce. Today I'll show you I can be gentle."  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to leave this as a oneshot but continued at the request of users Briemund, ChaosApple42 and TorienneShippingFactory, so I guess this one's for you guys!  
> Hope it doesn't disappoint :)

Brienne knew full well what had happened to make her hit Tormund. The man had been pestering her since he first saw her, that she knew for certain. The question she kept asking herself was what in the Seven’s name had possessed her to kiss him. This, she couldn’t answer.

Brienne didn’t know many reasons for someone to kiss another person, so she went through them in her head. Number one, you were in love with said person. Absolutely not. She didn’t even know the man, had barely spoken with him, and she didn’t believe in any sort of “love at first sight” kind of fairy-tale.

Number two, you were physically attracted to said person. Brienne was less sure about this. The only reference she had was, well, Renly. She had been infatuated with him as a King, but also as a man. She had admired his fighting abilities, the way his lean body was fast and strong, but at the same time graceful and regal. Tormund might be a great leader and an even greater warrior, but he was far from graceful. _He does have a better beard than Renly’s…_ But no, she quickly stopped the thought as it was forming. Tormund was decisively _not_ her type.

Then why had it all felt so right? Brienne blushed at the memory of his body pressed to hers. Being a natural born fighter, she had often been in close physical contact with many men, but never had she felt the way she did yesterday, with him. And this worried her for two reasons. The first one was that she had no idea what she was feeling, the second one, that she found herself wanting more.

The mystery remained, but Brienne didn’t have much time to figure it out since Jon Snow had announced to the Lords and Ladies of the North that he was to send the men of the Free Folk to guard East-watch-by-the-Sea, the eastern castle of the Night’s Watch. Tormund would soon be miles away, doing his duty and guarding the Seven Kingdoms from the Others. Stubborn as always, Brienne decided not to let him leave without finding out exactly what was different about this man, and why couldn’t she get out of her head the look he had given her when she’d kissed him on that courtyard.

Brienne was never one to run from the unknown, so she quickly got up from her bed, her mind set on finding the wildling. But it turned out the unknown had come to her, since she encountered the tall, red-headed man when she opened her chamber door.

Suddenly, all of the courage and audacity she had felt moments before disappeared and left in their place a need to run away when she saw Tormund standing awkwardly in front of her. He didn’t say anything right away, and Brienne took a moment to look at him. He was still wearing layers upon layers of fur, but he looked more polished than the day before. His hair was wet – surely from a bath in the hot springs – and he sported a bruise on his right temple. A bruise _she_ had left there. Brienne looked away, brows furrowed.

“I apologize for…”, she started, but was cut off by the man.

“Don’t.” The hint of a smile appeared under his beard. “I wear it with pride. And you know I was enjoying it as much as you did”.

Brienne snorted, still surprised at his lack of politeness, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she moved away from the door, silently inviting him in. He did so, closing the door behind him and turning to speak once again.

“My men and I are leaving tomorrow at first light”, he said, “But you already know that”.

“I do”. That didn’t explain why he had come to visit her. As if he had read her thoughts, Tormund spoke again.

“I came to ask you to join us”, he said. “We need good fighters”. He shot her a grin that made her heart leap. He was looking at her with such hope and expectation that Brienne almost considered for a second saying yes. She could imagine them both fighting side by side. _Maybe sleeping side by side, too_. But no, she quickly set aside once more the intrusive thoughts. Of course, it was not possible.

“I serve lady Sansa. My duty is here in Winterfell, with House Stark.” She could see the disappointment written across his features. “But I wish you good fortune, Ser”. It was better this way. A quick farewell to another of her fantasies that could never be.

“I am no Ser, Brienne”, he sharply retorted. Brienne was taken aback at his irritated tone, she hadn’t meant to offend him. She went to say so, but Tormund beat her to it.

“Is that your good-bye, then?”, he sounded hurt. Brienne could not fathom why that could be. “You’re colder than the Wall, _my lady_ ”, he added in a scoffing tone.

“What would you have me do, ignore my direct orders? Break my vows?” Brienne was now the one getting angry. Her honour came first, and he must know that.

"You 'kneelers' care too much about promises”, said Tormund, derisively, “Happiness is found in living, not promising."

It was getting harder for Brienne to reject him, but it was very clear to her that her mission was to protect Sansa, something she could not do from miles away.

“Lady Stark needs me here, and I _want_ to serve her. She values me”, replied Brienne, almost in a pleading tone. As much as she wanted to follow him, she could never leave her place. She needed him to understand that.

Tormund took a step closer to the taller woman, and put both hands on her shoulders. His tone was earnest and intense as he tried to persuade her.

“You do not belong here, Brienne. Where I come from, women who take up arms and fight alongside men are respected, not mocked.” Defeated, he sighed and let his arms fall to his sides.

“You would make the fiercest spearwife the North has seen”, he said, “And I would want you by my side”, he continued, then paused for a moment. “But if this is where you wish to serve, so be it”.

The pride and respect Brienne felt coming from Tormund’s words filled her with emotion. Trying to express her longing, she found herself lowering her head and stepping forward to kiss him. Only this time, it was different. The violence from the day before wasn’t there, a tenderness taking its place as Brienne placed her right hand on his cheek.

Tormund broke off the kiss, “Let me give you a proper farewell, then”. His voice now low and husky.

Suddenly, Brienne felt his hands around her again, and before she could speak, her mouth was covered by his once more. She felt the need to say something, but couldn’t speak. Her mind and her body were torn between worry and passion, until her instincts won over and she hungrily returned his kiss. An unfamiliar wave of heat crawled across her body and, overcome with need, Brienne didn’t notice she had pushed Tormund against the granite wall until she felt him chuckle under her. He gently stopped her, and spoke in a gruff tone.

“Yesterday you showed me you can be fierce. Today I’ll show you I can be gentle”.

Tormund guided a flustered Brienne to her bed, taking her softly by the hand. When she lied on it, Tormund thought he’d never seen her look so vulnerable. He climbed on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, and buried his face on her neck, kissing it hungrily. Ever so slowly, his mouth started traveling down, revealing more of her body with the help of his hands, which started undoing the simple leather tunic she was wearing.

Brienne’s sighs were taken as a sign of encouragement, but he still stopped at the last knot that was protecting her modesty, and looked at her, his eyes looking for reassurance in her own blue ones. He saw his own passion mirrored there, as Brienne herself lifted one hand to undo the last lace, removing her breeches with the other.

Tormund took a moment to appreciate her body, and resumed his exploration, taking time to kiss every scar, and every freckle of her strong muscled body.

Meanwhile, Brienne had started working on the leather straps and belts that were holding the furs the man was wearing, but was soon distracted by Tormund’s kiss, which had moved farther down, past her breasts, past her belly. She felt his strong hands stroking her thighs, while his tongue caressed her where she was the most sensitive. Where no man had been before. He kept going, building a fire that she didn’t know she had inside her. Brienne had never felt more like a woman than when she grasped at Tormund’s hair and moaned his name. She wasn’t sure if she was dying or the most alive she had been in her life, when her pleasure reached its peak and she finally collapsed under the wildling, feeling utterly complete.

Brienne’s eyes were still closed when, a moment later, she felt a kiss on her parted lips. When she opened them, she saw Tormund had moved and was now sitting at the side of the bed, which was incapable of fitting one person comfortably, let alone the both of them. Nonetheless, Brienne took the redhead’s hand and pulled him towards her, trying to make space to accommodate his bulky frame.

“Stay” Brienne spoke, shyly. She shifted so she was on her side, facing him.

Tormund’s eyes were glinting in the dimly lit room, and he rested his head next to hers, looking at her peaceful smile. The warmth of the shared bed chased away Tormund’s thoughts about walkers, war, and death, and for that night, there was only her.

 

* * *

 

When the first light appeared through the small window, and the morning cold started seeping in, Tormund slowly got up from the tiny bed, trying not to wake Brienne. He sat on the edge for a moment, putting his boots on while taking one last look at his fierce warrior, his Lady of Tarth, his maiden that was no more. As he was about to leave, he heard Brienne’s voice, almost in a whisper,

“Live”, she said, “Please live and come back to me”.

Tormund closed the door behind him and made his first vow, to survive the war and return to her.


End file.
